It was halfway through March, the warmest time of the year in Australia. In Van Diemen’s Land the sky was an infinite blue canopy overhead and birds soared high.
The spirit of Elizabeth Hawkins soared with them. She had just been given her release from a four-year sentence for setting a fire which had burnt down a shop. No longer would she be classed as a servant assigned to a master, but a respectable wife and, unexpectedly, for she was in her forties, the mother of two strapping sons in addition to her daughter, Susannah, a girl on whom she hadn’t set eyes for a long period of time.
She glanced back at the verandah, laughing when her younger son gave a roar as he woke from his nap in his father’s chair. Tobias was not easy-tempered on awaking. She watched him gaze around him, his face as sour as if he’d sucked on a lemon. When he caught sight of her, he stared reflectively at her just like his father did, then he grinned.
She held out her arms to him, swinging him up for a hug when he came running.
His brother, Oliver, almost three years old and the elder by barely a year, was out with his father, perched proudly in front of Jed on the saddle. Though who was the more proud of the two was debatable. Jed had taken Oliver with him on his visit to their neighbour.
The property they occupied was owned by Francis Matheson. Francis, although under suspicion and confined to the property himself after being mistaken for an escaped convict, had made sure she was assigned as his servant, thus saving her from the worst privations of her sentence. Francis and Siana Matheson had always been good to her.
Jed had now bought an acreage and homestead in New South Wales, and they would shortly be leaving the island to travel to the mainland. Now Elizabeth had been granted her freedom, they’d move to a place where her past wasn’t known. Once settled in, Jed intended to return to England to fetch Susannah. Not that Elizabeth was ashamed of her past, since she hadn’t committed the crime she was convicted of. But there was no way of proving that now, and she didn’t want her children to grow up thinking less of her for it.
‘There will be a good future for our sons in New South Wales,’ Jed had promised her. ‘And we’ll be less isolated.’
Elizabeth couldn’t think of anything more promising than being as happy as she was now, and being married to Jed for the rest of her life. All that had gone before – her early life as mistress to a rich man, the years of mothering the bastard son she had borne him, who was now dead from his excesses – was a painful memory she would rather not recall. She was loved and cared for by a man who was worth more than his weight in gold, and she had borne two sons in the sanctity of their marriage. She was now looking forward to being reunited with the daughter of her previous marriage. What more could any woman want?
‘Pa,’ Tobias shouted out, pointing towards the trail cleared between Francis Matheson’s property and that of their neighbour.
She gazed towards the pathway to see Jed and Oliver emerge from the trees. When Tobias began to struggle she let him down, laughing as he went running off at a trot, tumbling over and righting himself because he tried to run faster than his legs would allow, to greet his father.
Dismounting, Jed set him on the saddle with his brother and began to lead them. His honey-brown eyes met hers as he drew nearer, and he smiled. As always, she became aware of herself as a woman, though she was no longer able to primp and perfume herself, as she had in her previous life.
Here, she had dirt under her nails and calluses on her hands. Her hair was pulled untidily back into a ribbon at the nape of her neck, her face tanned and freckled from the sun. Nevertheless, her fingers went to her foxy hair, attempting to tuck the stray strands in. Her husband didn’t mind her being untidy. Having worked on the land for most of his life, he was unused to a life restricted by convention.
Jed, tall, upright and grey-haired, laughed. ‘Stop fussing, woman. You know the light in your hair puts the sunlight to shame.’
‘Jed Hawkins. You always say that.’
‘And you always blush.’ He lifted their sons from the horse, picking them up by the slack of their shirts like a couple of pups, to set them gently on their feet. Taking her face between his hands, he kissed her mouth, making it his own. She’d never felt more loved in her life than when she was with Jed. ‘I have some news.’
‘What is it?’
‘Someone was making enquiries about you in Hobart. A woman called Emily Scott.’
‘Emily Scott? I can’t recall her.’
‘She was a passenger aboard a ship which docked a week ago, and shared a cabin with Siana Matheson and a child called Susannah.’
‘Siana and Susannah?’ Elizabeth’s eyes widened and an unbelieving smile came and went. ‘A week ago? Where are they, then? Why have they not come to us?’
‘They’re being cared for by a Quaker family. Apparently, Siana was taken ill aboard the ship and the child caught it from her.’
Elizabeth’s hand came up to her mouth. ‘Oh, God! What’s wrong with them?’
‘An infection of the lungs accompanied by fever, I understand.’
Elizabeth began to take off her apron. ‘I must go to them.’
‘No, my love. I’ll go, and you’ll wait here. We don’t know what ails her yet. I don’t want to put the boys at risk, especially since we’ll be leaving here within a month. I’ll leave tomorrow at first light. As soon as she’s recovered I’ll bring her back to you.’
It was a frustrating time for Elizabeth while Jed was away. Siana, after all these years, she thought. What on earth had possessed Francis to allow her to travel all this way by herself. But she wasn’t by herself. Susannah was with her. Dear God, how she longed to see her daughter again. The girl wouldn’t know her after all this time. And what of Siana, was she happy? God knew, she deserved to be after all she’d been through in her childhood.
She sat her sons down, saying to them, ‘Soon you will have a sister. Her name is Susannah.’
Oliver nodded. ‘Pa said.’
‘Pa said,’ Tobias mimicked.
Elizabeth fetched the precious drawing of her daughter, smoothing it out carefully. It had been drawn by Sam Saynuthin, the deaf mute who worked for Josh Skinner. It had been a gift from Siana, given to her before Elizabeth had left England.
‘Susannah was the same age as you in this picture, Oliver, but now she’s much older. She has blue eyes like me, and the same colour hair.’
The pair of them nodded solemnly. ‘Pa said.’
But even Elizabeth was unprepared for the changes in her daughter, when two weeks later she was presented to her. At the age of eight, Susannah was as dainty as a porcelain doll. Elizabeth longed to take her in her arms, but the girl was clinging to Siana’s side and she didn’t want to frighten her.
‘Do you know who I am, Susannah?’
‘You’re my mamma,’ the girl said and gazed up at Siana for confirmation with a trembling bottom lip.
Oliver, dragging Tobias behind him, pushed in between. ‘There are some baby pigs. Wanna see? You can hold one and make it squeal.’
Gazing at Siana for permission, Susannah received a nod.
‘Be careful you don’t dirty that pretty dress,’ Elizabeth told her. ‘Good clothing has to be looked after, here.’
Susannah ignored her, saying to Oliver, ‘I slept outside last night. A wild animal made a noise in the bushes. Your papa said it was a devil.’
‘Were you scared?’ Oliver asked.
‘Of course not,’ she said scornfully. ‘Don’t be such a baby. We have dragons in England. They blow smoke and fire from their nostrils and roar much louder. They would cook you and eat you in one bite.’
Seemingly impressed by her answer, Oliver gazed wide-eyed at her, while plump little Tobias clung fearfully to his brother’s hand.
‘Come on then, show me the pigs,’ she said bossily.
‘Where are your manners?’ Elizabeth asked. ‘We say please and thank you in this house.’
Susannah subjected her mother to a cool look, reminding Siana of Daisy. She tossed her head and walked out through the open door, the boys following her.
Siana smiled apologetically, as if her mothering of the child had been at fault. ‘I’ve never seen Susannah act as badly as this. But you must remember that everything is strange to her and she’s aware that I’m going to leave her here. Give her time. She’ll settle down and accept her situation in a little while. I’ve talked to her about you, often.’
‘Forgive me. I’d expected no less and you’re right to remind me. You look pale, my dear.’
‘The journey tired me after the infection. The land is so rugged. I’m glad Jed was with me, for there’s a sadness attached to the land here, which made me feel quite melancholy.’
Elizabeth had forgotten Siana’s odd perceptions. ‘How is Francis, and the children?’
To Elizabeth’s surprise, tears formed in Siana’s eyes as she choked out. ‘Something entirely dreadful has happened, Elizabeth. Maryse has taken her own life. Francis holds me to blame. He’s sent me away, for he can no longer stand the sight of me.’
‘Oh, my dearest.’ Slipping back into her former role of mentor to the younger woman, Elizabeth took Siana in her arms and held her close. ‘We will have some tea and you must tell me all about it.’
Jed shuffled his feet, dismayed that Siana was about to heap her troubles onto Elizabeth’s shoulders. He hoped nostalgia for the past didn’t unsettle his wife and make her hanker after returning to England.
Elizabeth gazed at him over Siana’s shoulder, offering him a faint smile, though there were concerned tears in her eyes. Siana had been good to her in the past, and she wouldn’t turn her back on this troubled friend, who was now in need of her counsel.
Feeling superfluous when faced with this display of shared, female emotion, Jed shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. ‘I’ll go and supervise the children,’ he said. ‘The boys are bound to get into trouble if they’re not watched.’
Over the next few days Elizabeth gradually won Susannah over. The girl relaxed and seemed to enjoy the freedom of the place, which was unregulated by household or schoolroom schedules. Elizabeth made sure she received some tutoring every day, though.
After unburdening her troubles, Siana allowed herself to be persuaded by Elizabeth that the parting would be temporary. ‘Francis will come to his senses.’
‘I worry about what has happened to Bryn.’
‘Knowing Francis, nothing too drastic. Even if he cannot accept the boy as his son, he’s Bryn’s grandfather. Blood is thicker than water. In time he’ll come to the conclusion that you may have deceived him, but you acted with the best of intentions. He loves you too much to let you go for good.’
Because the Hawkins family had plans to leave Van Diemen’s Land to settle on their own property in New South Wales, Siana didn’t tell Elizabeth about the baby she carried inside her. Luckily she no longer suffered from sickness, and her slightly bulging stomach was easily hidden.
‘Come with us to New South Wales,’ Elizabeth said one day. ‘I don’t like the thought of leaving you here alone.’
‘No. I want to stay here in case Francis comes for me.’ The truth was, she wanted to be alone so she didn’t have to pretend she was happy when her emotions were constantly in turmoil.
As the days swiftly passed and the time of parting grew nearer, Siana made light of her problem with falsehoods. ‘I’ll only be here over the winter. Francis said something about joining me here in the spring. By that time he’ll have recovered his senses.’
Although he suspected she was lying, Jed didn’t urge Siana to take Elizabeth’s advice. Having once been the steward of Cheverton Estate, which had belonged to Siana’s first husband, he knew the way her mind worked. Siana Matheson made her own troubles, and didn’t expect anybody but herself to sort them out. She had inner strength and was a woman with the ability to survive in the most desperate of circumstances.
‘I’ll go into town and make sure you’re provisioned up for winter before we leave. There will be winter vegetables available, and the neighbours will come over every week to make sure you’re all right. If you need help, just fire the rifle twice into the air.’
‘You’ll have to show me how to load it, then.’
‘You’ll come through this all right, lass,’ Jed said to her. ‘You’ve always been strong, for you’ve always had to be.’
A week later Siana was alone.
Susannah had shed a tear and hugged her tight, but no more than she’d have done for a favourite aunt, for her own mother had captivated her after the first day. Susannah was intrigued by her and Elizabeth’s resemblance to one another. And it was obvious that her little brothers enchanted her. After always being among the youngest of the pack, she seemed to relish the responsibility of being the eldest.
Jed seemed to have captured her heart by just doing nothing, and she called him Pa, the same as her two brothers.
‘Good luck,’ Siana had said to them, doubting if she’d ever see them again.
Her friend Elizabeth had changed. She was more capable than Siana remembered, and certainly tougher. Being part of a family where she was loved and respected had given her confidence. Four years ago their paths had divided, taking them in different directions. Although they remained friends, their past rapport, which had been forged out of mutual need, no longer existed. Both of them knew it.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?’ Elizabeth asked her on the last day.
Giving them all one last hug, Siana shook her head. ‘Safe journey.’
She watched them walk out of her life with dry eyes. When they exchanged a final wave and disappeared from her sight she went back indoors, planning her schedule in her mind.
The work about the house and garden would keep her busy, she realized. It would do her good to get back to her roots and dirty her hands. In fact, she was looking forward to working in the alien soil. Although the general terrain was steeper and more rugged, and the landscape wilder than she’d ever experienced in her life, the hills reminded her vaguely of Dorset. The solidly built wooden house would keep her snug and warm when winter came, for Elizabeth had told her it was bitterly cold in the winter months.
So the weeks passed. Siana missed her husband and children but, although she felt sad and wondered about them constantly, she was aware of the child growing inside, keeping her company. She would endure the long days until she saw her family again, for she was sure they would be reunited.
She fashioned clothes for her infant, using fabrics she’d brought with her, and stitching during the day when the light didn’t strain her eyes. Sometimes, she talked to the child as if she was already born. The sound of her own voice was a comfort in her loneliness, for the only visitors she had were members of the neighbouring Stowe family, who she welcomed gladly when they came to pay the occasional call.
Siana knew she’d give birth to a girl. And so it came to pass, on a cold day in June, when frost lay thickly upon the ground.
She barely had time to stoke up the fire when the pains were upon her. So swiftly and easily did the infant arrive, she didn’t have time to think, let alone send for the assistance of Jean Stowe. Not that she needed her. The afterbirth came away a few seconds later, and without a tear. Tying the cord, she separated the infant from it and wrapped her daughter in a sheet. After attending to her own needs, she placed the child against her breast to suckle, and returned to her bed to rest for the remainder of the day.
The baby captivated Siana. Her head was covered in a dark velvety cap and a glimpse of her eyes showed them to be dark, too. The child bore a strong resemblance to her own mother. But there was Matheson in her too, in the shape of her hands and the tiny frown creasing her brow, which reminded Siana achingly of Francis. How delicate and perfect a being she was.
‘I’ll name you after your father, and also after my mother. So, my dearest little Francine Megan Matheson, all we have to do now is wait for your father to come for us. That should not be long now, for a man cannot mourn for ever, not even for a lost child.’
Over the following months she was happy being a mother to her child. She didn’t stray far from her immediate surrounds except to draw water from the stream. The only threat to her peace of mind came from the wild tangle of wilderness surrounding the clearing, which seemed to Siana strangely oppressive. Siana didn’t belong here, and had the feeling that if she ever ventured into the wilderness it would lay claim to her and she’d be lost for ever.
In London, meanwhile, Goldie was making an impulsive bid for freedom after finding a door to the outside swinging open. Slipping through it, she ran as quickly as she could along the streets, hiding amongst the vendors of fruit in the market.
She was looking for a coaching inn. If they agreed to take her to Poole, Josh Skinner would repay them for her fare. He used to own a coaching company and was acquainted with all the drivers. But, although she chased after each coach she saw, they soon left her behind.
The grey uniform marked her out. Twice, she evaded capture by a constable, hiding in some smelly rat-ridden refuse in an alley. By evening Goldie was ravenously hungry, but not ravenous enough to scavenge with the rats. Even the sparse workhouse food would have been a welcome sight.
Wearily, she sank into a shop doorway. It had been a hot day. The city stank of dung, rotting vegetables and the stinking, reeking mud of the river, for when the tide ebbed it left behind it an assortment of dead animals and other unsavoury rubbish.
Before long it grew dark. Curling up in the shadows, Goldie slept, oblivious to the sounds around her. Morning brought her downfall. Dragged upright by a constable she was marched back to the workhouse.
Hands on hips, Mrs Tweddle scowled ominously. ‘Well, there’s an ungrateful girl, then.’
Close to tears, Goldie said, ‘I don’t want to stay here. I want to go home.’
The breath left her body when the woman backhanded her. Goldie staggered backwards with each slap, finally hitting her head against the wall. She burst into loud sobs as she slid down the wall to the floor.
But Mrs Tweddle hadn’t finished. Fetching a thin cane, she set about Goldie, whipping her across the back, shoulders and arms without mercy. Cowering away from the stinging cane, Goldie tried to shield her head from the worst of it.
‘It hurts!’ she shrieked. ‘I won’t run away again, I promise.’
‘I’ll make sure you don’t, dearie.’ Her face convulsed with fury, the woman dragged Goldie upright by her hair and threw her face-down over the back of a stuffed chair. Blow after blow landed on her legs, buttocks and back.
Goldie’s stomach began to ache. She couldn’t catch a breath properly and became dizzy. Froth dripped from her mouth and she lost control of her bladder. Then the room went black and she lost consciousness. Limply, she hung there, blood welling from her wounds.
Her energy spent, breathing heavily, Mrs Tweddle gazed at her victim without remorse. That would teach the ungrateful little pest to obey the rules. She dragged her through to the infirmary and gave her to one of the workhouse inmates who served as nurses to the sick.
‘This one’s a runaway. See to her injuries. The little madam thinks she’s too good for the likes of us. When she’s able to work, let me know. She can scrub the privies and floors from now on.’
‘Eh, the poor little thing,’ one of them said after Mrs Tweddle had departed. ‘That miserable old cow has given her a right savaging. Fetch me some water, Maggie. I’ll see if I can clean her up . . . some of that salve too, to stop the cuts festering. If Tweddle puts her to scrubbin’ the privies, I reckon it’ll kill the poor little lass.’
The words lodged in Goldie’s brain as she woke. She groaned as she tried to sit up, resolving to run away again as soon as she could. She’d rather die than stay in this place longer than was necessary.
‘Now don’t you be scared, my luvvy. You’re in the infirmary. My name’s Annie Rice and this here is my friend, Maggie Coster. We’ll be looking after you. But we’ve got to wash you and put some salve on those welts. It’s going to hurt.’
Tears came to Goldie’s eyes. ‘I want my mamma.’
Maggie gazed with astonishment at her friend. ‘Well, I never. She speaks real nice, don’t she?’
Annie lowered her voice. ‘And looks pretty. She still has her hair. Mrs Tweddle might take it into her head to let the doctor have his way with her. You know what he’s like with the young girls. She’ll end up in a house when he’s finished teaching her a few tricks, the dirty old sod.’ Annie turned to smile at her. ‘How did you get in here, then?’
Goldie bit her lip and plucked from the air what seemed to her to be a perfectly reasonable scenario, for the death of Sebastian and the consequences to herself of exposure of the crime against her brother, were very real to her. So far, nobody had believed the truth of her background. But everyone respected what the earl said, and she knew he would vouch for her.
‘I was staying with my papa’s relative, the Earl of Kylchester, and I got lost. Someone stole my clothes and they left me on a tomb in a cemetery.’
‘Now there’s a fine tale,’ Maggie said and gazed at Annie, her eyes brimming with mirth. The two women gazed at each other for a moment, then began to laugh uproariously.
Josh wished he hadn’t mentioned that he intended to visit London in August, for the battle with Daisy had been raging for five minutes.
‘It’s not a social visit. Giles Dennings and I are going to look over some property there as an investment.’
‘We could make it a social visit, though. Mr Dennings won’t mind. Please, Josh,’ she begged. ‘I won’t get in the way, I promise. I can visit Goldie then. I’m so bored without her and I want to know when she’s coming home, because even though she said she’d write, she hasn’t. I’ll be good, I promise.’
‘You’re a girl. Who’s going to look after you?’
Sensing victory, Daisy gave her brother her most winsome smile. ‘Miss Edgar can come too. Her sister has a boarding house in London and we could stay there. I’m sure she’d like to visit her sister.’ She gave a breathless giggle. ‘Besides, Miss Edgar and Mr Dennings are sweethearts.’
‘The devil they are,’ Josh said, his face lit up by a huge grin. ‘What makes you say so?’
‘He gave her a flower when he left yesterday, and Miss Edgar’s face went all red. I was watching from the landing upstairs.’
Josh laughed. ‘The sly old dog. I’ll be damned. What else do you know?’
‘That Pansy Matheson has you fair mazed,’ she taunted. ‘You look like a moonstruck mule when you’re with her.’
The smile left his face. ‘See here, Daisy Skinner. Just because you’re my sister, it doesn’t mean you can take liberties, unless you want to go over my knee and feel my hand across your rump. That nose of yours will fall off if you keep sticking it into other people’s business.’
‘How else can I find out things when grown-ups won’t tell me? You’re my brother and Pansy is my stepsister. I love her and I love you.’ The laughter left Daisy’s face. ‘When is our sister coming home, Josh?’
‘Don’t you like staying with your brother, then?’
She crossed to where he stood, hugging him tight. ‘Of course I do, Josh. But I’m lonely. Everything has gone wrong since Maryse died. Papa no longer loves us. He’s sent Siana away, and Bryn as well.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘I heard the maids talking about it.’
‘Did you now? I’ll have to ask Mr Bentley to give that pair of flighty hens a flea in their ears. I’m sure Francis loves you all, but he’s very sad at the moment. As for Siana, she’s taken Susannah back to her mother, who lives a long away across the sea. She’ll return to us before too long.’ If Josh had known what Francis’s intentions were, though, Siana would never have departed alone. He was relieved that Jed Hawkins and Elizabeth would be there to look after her.’
‘And what about Bryn? Where is he?’
Josh hesitated, loath to tell Daisy the truth about the boy’s birth. ‘Sometimes people leave our lives because they have no choice. That doesn’t mean we’ll never see them again.’ He smiled at her, then uttered the very thing that would divert his sister’s mind from the subject. ‘You’d better go and tell Miss Edgar to pack a trunk for London. But we’re only staying a week or so. There are several places of interest we can go and see. I can take you to see Brunel’s Tunnel under the river and I heard there was a monument being built in memory of Horatio Nelson, the great British admiral who died in the battle of Trafalgar. That might be finished by now.’
Daisy snorted. ‘You can go and see the dead admiral if you want. I’d rather have Miss Edgar take me to the theatre to see a play and then go to visit Kew Gardens. Pansy told me it’s filled with flowers.’ Her eyes began to shine. ‘Can we use the railway from Southampton? Mr Bentley told me that it’s very noisy, and it snorts fire and cinders from its chimney like a dragon.’
‘And how would Mr Bentley know that?’
‘He knows someone who knows someone else who went on one, once.’
‘A pity he had to tell you about it, then,’ Josh said gloomily, for he’d just remembered the London and South Western Railway ran a first-class passenger service on the Southampton to London route, and the three-hour journey would cost him twenty shillings apiece.
But Daisy hadn’t finished promoting his manservant. ‘Mr Bentley tells lovely stories. When he was a boy he knew somebody who went up into the air in a basket hung from a bag filled with gas. Fancy that.’
‘More like fanciful, is that. ’Tis him that’s a bag of gas, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he could fly all by himself. What’s more, Mr Bentley’s not paid to tell you stories. Just you let him get on with his work instead of being a bother to him.’
‘Oh, you,’ she said and flounced off, her pink skirts flicking up to reveal the hems of her calico drawers, below which a pair of calves disappeared into sturdy brown ankle boots.
‘Little madam,’ he said and choked out a laugh, trying to imagine his sister dressed in rags and digging for turnips, as he and Siana had been obliged to at her age.
Pansy had been furious at being packed off to stay with her aunt and uncle after Maryse’s funeral. She was even more disturbed at being in London, where the season was in full swing. She felt constricted, confined and uncomfortable, and longed to be in Dorset to comfort her father.
There was something going on she didn’t know about. Conversations ceased when she walked into rooms and she was beginning to feel like an outsider. Her uncle Ryder hadn’t changed, but Aunt Prudence was cool towards her now, sometimes using her to fetch and carry, as she would her maid.
What was worse, Alder was squiring Justina Parsons around. Not that Pansy was jealous, for she’d quite finished with Alder. But it seemed to Pansy that her cousin was being insensitive and just using Justina Parsons to embarrass herself. And Justina didn’t deserve to be used like that. Although she was a little empty-headed at times, she was a pleasant enough person nevertheless, and Pansy liked her. Matured by Maryse’s death, Pansy didn’t want to play Alder’s foolish games.
She attended the nuptials of her uncle Augustus, who was wed to his Constance in a small ceremony conducted in the chapel of Kylchester Hall. This was followed a few weeks later by a ball and grand wedding of the earl’s heir, Roger, to Lalage. Peers of the realm abounded at the latter, which was celebrated at Kylchester Hall. Her father was noticeable by his absence from both ceremonies.
A week later, Pansy requested a private meeting with the earl.
‘What is it, my dear?’ he asked her.
‘If it pleases you, sir. I should like to return home. Siana and papa will need me.’
Her uncle drew in a deep breath, then slowly exhaled as he waved her to one of the chairs. ‘My brother said he would send for you.’
‘It has been several months now and there has been no word from them. We cannot mourn for Maryse for ever and I suspect something has happened that I don’t know about.’
‘Ah . . . I see.’ His fingers tapped on the table for a moment. ‘How old are you now, Pansy.’
‘I’m twenty-one.’
‘Then quite old enough to understand. Not only is your father mourning the loss of Maryse, he has cast her illegitimate child from his hearth. Furthermore, he has banished the peasant woman he married to Van Diemen’s Land.’
A chill ran through Pansy and her eyes widened in bewilderment. How could the father she adored do such a cruel thing? ‘What has he done with Bryn?’
‘The boy is being farmed out with a former servant until his future is decided upon. It’s most likely he’ll be sent to an institution and trained to work in a useful profession, so he can support himself in the future.’
Pansy knew the reputation of the boarding schools he was referring to, most of which housed unwanted children. Many of them didn’t survive their childhood. Clasping her hands to her mouth she tried to hold back the tears pricking her eyes. ‘I swear, I will never forgive Papa for this.’
‘My dear Pansy, the boy cannot be brought up as part of the Matheson family. Think of the shame it will bring down on us. Maryse was unwed.’
‘How dare you blame Maryse when she was the victim? The shame is that the men who did this to her are still at large when the Matheson men should be hunting them down and bringing them to justice. My father has allowed his self-pity to overcome his compassion. He should remember that Bryn is an innocent, and the boy is also his grandson.’
‘The boy is a bastard.’
Her eyes blazing, she lost her temper and was totally indiscreet. ‘And you, my lord, are a hypocrite, since it’s common knowledge you have a mistress, and have fathered illegitimate children of your own.’
Ryder Matheson stood up, bristling with affront. ‘That’s enough, Miss Matheson. I will not be spoken to thus, in my own home.’
‘Then I will leave your home forthwith.’
‘You will not. You will stay here until your father sends for you. However, I intend to write to him and inform him of the displeasure with which I now regard you. Go to your room now, please. I’ll send your aunt up to you. When you marry Alder you must stop this hoydenish nonsense and behave with more dignity. In fact, it’s high time the pair of you were wed, for when you are a wife, you will learn to heed the will of your husband. Perhaps we will bring the nuptials forward.’
Pansy stared at him. ‘I will never marry Alder. This I have told him, time and time again.’
The earl’s face was drawn into cold, haughty lines. ‘Miss Matheson, I’ve had quite enough of this conversation. You are a disgrace to your father’s name. While you are living under my roof you will accede to my wishes.’
Even though she stared at her uncle defiantly, Pansy quaked with the enormity of what she’d said. ‘I will not marry your son under any circumstances. Good day, sir.’ She turned and left the room, her chin held high.